A Closet Incident
by multiplied
Summary: 2 prefects, 1 closet and a DareDie. R


**A Closet Incident**

It was 10 o'clock and, fortunately for Hermione, the halls had long been abandoned, thanks to the new curfew set down by Professor Dumbledore. It made her job so much easier; no having to ask students where they were going, if they had a pass, where they had gotten permission, etcetera. Being a prefect didn't sound like a very _laboring_ job, I mean, all you really have to do is make sure no one's up to anything suspicious, but it was. When you were being lied to at least ten times a night by various students it got annoying, very quickly, especially when they were bad liars.

Like just the other night she had caught some first-year Hufflepuff by the name of Thomas Bartlett, or something like that, and he explained in detail how Moaning Murtle, in fact, had stolen his pet rat and hidden him in the bathroom and he claimed he needed to retrieve it. It was not a plausible story for a number of reasons; one being that Murtle, being a ghost, could not pick up anything, let alone steal a rat. Two being that Murtle had been moved to the 4th floor girls' restroom when Thomas had specifically claimed that she was holding the rat in the 3rd floor girls' restroom. And, finally, three that even if Murtle could pick the rat up and was in fact storing it in the 3rd floor restroom, why would she randomly steal this poor first-year's rat?

But Hermione didn't point this out to Thomas, seeing as he looked like he was nearly going to wet himself being caught and all and he probably wasn't doing anything particularly trouble-making, but sent him on his way back to his Common Room with a warning.

Annoying.

That's not to say Hermione wasn't thankful for this position, she had been beyond grateful, it just got a little wearing on the nerves. It was always relaxing to have a little alone time though when all the students were required to stay in their Common Rooms and she had been set to patrol the East Wing of the Castle. It was quiet, besides the hushed tapping of her shoes, and she liked it that way.

"Granger!" She heard a voice yelled from the end of the hall, "Granger!"

Hermione quickly turned around and squinted to see who it was, most likely Ron, or Alice, a Ravenclaw prefect she was supposed to be on duty with. Unfortunately, it wasn't Ron or Alice.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione asked, arms crossing over her chest and a critical-judging expression on her face as he approached walking briskly, "Don't tell me it's Peeves again. With all this early curfew nonsense caused by him, he better not be wandering the halls like he has in the past week an—"

"Granger, can you for once just shut up and follow?" Draco snapped in that characteristically bored but smooth tone. Draco Malfoy was also an aspect of being a prefect that Hermione could certainly do without. Hermione reluctantly followed, convincing herself that she would definitely be paid off for this in the long run, on her school marks card under the category of 'extra curricular activities'.

"So, what is it? Does Alice need some help with something—"

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Granger?" Malfoy spat over his shoulder, obviously not in the best mood for questions, "Shut up."

Sighed, too tired to put up a fight.

"There." Malfoy Draco abruptly came to a halt in front of a closet. A rather nondescript closet, nothing particularly special about it, only an oak panel door and a dark metal knob with a keyhole.

"A closet?" Hermione asked, slightly sarcastic. He had brought her all the way over here… to look at a _closet_? "Look, Malfoy, if you need your little booty-call I can definitely tell you it's not going to be me, so you can go find your little friend Parkinson, I'm sure she'll be overwhelmed to—"

"Oh, please, Granger," Malfoy said disdainfully, turning to Hermione, who seemed highly amused, "even if a mudblood like you were my last choice on earth—" Malfoy paused, it was seeming like this argument wasn't going to go very far, "There's something in there."

"_Something_?" Hermione asked, "Something being what, exactly?"

"I don't know, does it look like I checked?"

"So you were_ afraid_ to check?" Malfoy would never live this one down.

"Granger, are you delusional? Me? _Afraid_? Please, don't be ridiculous." Malfoy snorted but then paused, as if thinking something over then added, "It's locked. I thought you might have the key."

"Oh, yes, like Filtch would trust me with his beloved keys?" Hermione snapped, obviously slightly resentful of the fact Filch would not trust her, a reliable straight A student, with a lousy set of keys that unlocked only a few minor closets and doors, "He practically sleeps with those things."

Hermione started to walk away back down the hall when she heard Malfoy start to bang on the closet door, jiggle the knob and try a few petty pick-lock spells on it.

"It's not going to open, Malfoy." Hermione called over her shoulder, "Not even with a lock-pick charm. I thought even you would know better. Apparently, not." Malfoy seemed to be getting increasingly more frustrated with his tries, and Hermione certainly wasn't helping. Suddenly, Hermione heard the crash of Malfoy's body against the door. He really did need to do something with that temper besides knocking down doors…

"Hey, I think it's open— "

_SLAM!_

Hermione quickly spun around. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, only the oak panel of the closet door, looking deceivingly innocent.

"Malfoy?" Hermione shouted, knocking on the door, only her echoed answered, "Malfoy, if you think you're having a good laugh, this isn't funny… Honestly, can you be a little more mature?"

Hermione glanced around the Hall; there was no one. Then it hit her, would anyone seriously miss Malfoy? A grin spread across Hermione's face, but it was quickly wiped off.

_No, stop it Hermione. So he wants his little fun. Let him have it. He's nothing better than the immature son of a— _Hermione stopped. She jiggled the knob, just as Malfoy had done before her, nothing. She banged on the door, nothing. She pushed, she shoved, she pounded, she—

_THUD!_

"Malfoy?" Hermione called out from the darkness of the stuffy closet.

_SLAM!_

**Hope you liked it. I'm planning this on being a short three chapter thing but we'll see how it goes. This originally came from an idea thought up by me and one of my best friends mjeleon. Please keep reviewing in the mean time.**


End file.
